


The Breakup

by Wakor



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Break Up, Fluff, Gen, M/M, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2109447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wakor/pseuds/Wakor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, being in a relationship is difficult. Carlos and Cecil, facing an imminent breakup, try to talk things out with the help of their friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Congratulations!

    Carlos first heard about it while picking up milk. The Night Valians that were familiar with him enough to recognize his face were giving him looks -- not weird, paranoid ones, which were the norm, but congratulatory ‘good luck!’ ones. Normally Carlos could ignore it, since he’d long figured out that sometimes Night Valians just DID things for no reason -- Or, at least, no reason he had figured out yet -- but it was happening way too often to just be a ‘for no reason, unless for a reason unknown’ event.

    Approaching one of the citizens, Carlos was about to open his mouth to ask why they were giving him such weird looks when the hand holding his gallon of milk snapped clean off his wrist. The scientist stared at it in shock, the citizen moving on with his day after giving Carlos a hardy clap on the back.

    “I’m so happy to hear about your breakup!”

    Carlos, clutching his bloodless stump, sprinted to his lab to run some tests. His team of scientists rushed to take tissue samples, only to find that there wasn’t any tissue to sample. It appeared that his arm, up to his elbow, had become a sort of elastic… clay substance. The skin farther up to his shoulder was normal, but they soon found similar clay substances on his other arm. His two feet were also clay, and beginning to crack.

    Carlos frowned. “Perhaps it has something to do with blood flow…?”

    “Unlikely,” said one of his partners. “You would be unconscious and suffering from necrosis far before your flesh became some sort of rock.”

    “One of the citizens here mentioned something about a breakup…” Carlos continued pensively. “As far as I know, Cecil and I are still very much together… So it’s probably safe to say it’s some metamorphosis or rite of passage that everybody knew about except us.”

    “They call it a breakup?” another team member muttered. “That’s just begging to create a confusion.”

    “I agree,” said Carlos, “But right now, I should figure out what’s going on and how to respond to it. I need to call Cecil.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

    “Hello, Carlos!” rang out Cecil’s deep, calming voice. “I have to be on in two minutes, but I’m happy to talk to you beforehand. Are you going to be home tonight after I get off work--”  
  
    “Er, I’m not sure, Cecil,” Carlos murmured. “See, uh, I’m… breaking up.”

    “Oh, no, I can hear you just fine--”

    “No, I mean, I’m literally breaking apart--” Carlos cussed as something clunked to the floor. “That was my left foot. Cecil, would you happen to know why--”

    “Oh. My. GOD!” Carlos winced as an excited squeal screeched through the phone speaker. “You’re BREAKING UP? I’m having a breakup too! My left ear came off this morning on my way to work, and I lost some fingers on my right hand just now while trying to pick up my coffee. I was afraid that you weren’t at the same level I was -- relationship-wise, that is -- to be having a breakup, but I see now that--”

    Carlos cut him off. “So you’re saying this is completely normal?”

    “Natural as the birds and the bloodworms! Oh Carlos, we ought to celebrate! I would like to have some of that wine we got from Old Woman Josie before we lose our tongues.”

    “Cecil, slow down!” Carlos grimaced as his team snickered behind him. “I’m very... unfamiliar with this process. Is it some sort of metamorphosis? Like, a transformation?”

    “Transformation? Oh, no, Carlos!” Cecil purred. “It’s a trans-POR-tation. Carlos, you’re going to meet my parents!”

    There was suddenly a loud ‘CLUNK!’ as the scientist’s jaw hit the floor, literally. “Wha’?!”

    “Don’t worry, they’ll LOVE you. Just don’t wear any red. That aggravates Mother!” Cecil continued before Carlos could attempt to say anything else. “Oh, I’m on right now! I’ll see you at home tonight. Ouhh, I’m just so excited! It really does say a lot about a relationship when you can drain your life force and reform as a celestial body in your parents’ basement together. I love you!”

    When the phone hung up with a loud ‘click’, all that was left was a crumbling Carlos and a group of snickering scientists. He glared them into a silence and limped back to his table to conduct more tests, wanting to document what was happening to his body.

After a moment, however, one of the scientists spoke up in a hesitant, confused tone.

    “So, um… I’m happy you’re meeting Cecil’s parents and all that, but when it’s over… how do you two get back together?”

    “Maybe with some roses and soft jazz,” offered another scientist. The team burst into laughter, Carlos sighing and pinching his brow.


	2. Breaking Up Is Hard

    Breaking up with Cecil was difficult. Having to go about his day while literally falling apart was hard on Carlos, especially when he had so much work to do; After all, you could balance only so many equations when your dominant hand was missing, and it’s very hard to communicate with others when you’re missing a jaw. Not to mention transportation; Carlos definitely wasn't a fan of hobbling from one place to the next, carrying all his clay-like body parts in a plastic bag.

    It only got worse as the day progressed. He eventually lost his other foot, but one of his team members offered to snatch one of the power scooters from the nearby supermarket. To return later, of course. In light of Carlos losing his jaw, other members of his team decided that the most hilarious thing in the world would be making zombie noises and murmuring, “Braaaaains!” behind his back. Carlos had to admit, however; it was interesting losing vital body parts and feeling no pain or fatigue. It was also fascinating to explore just how much ‘losing your life force’ affected the physical body, despite a ‘life force’ only being a spiritual idea representing one’s self-awareness that probably doesn’t exist. Carlos figured that by ‘life force’, Cecil had meant ‘blood’, and by ‘transportation’, he meant some sort of ‘astral projection’.

    The scientist felt guilty to admit it, but he headed home early that night not because he wanted to spend time with Cecil, but because he’d lost so many body parts that he couldn’t possibly do any more work. Using the one arm and one leg he had left, Carlos power-scootered his way back home and rang the doorbell using his wrist-stump.

    What greeted him was a grinning Cecil with one leg, a hole in his gut, and half his face missing. His brain was visible, but clearly greyed, as if it were turning into clay as well. Carlos marveled at how Cecil could survive with only a barely-functional brain, let alone set up what looked like an elaborate candle-lit dinner. He powered-scootered inside to join Cecil at the table.

    “Well, what do you think?” the radio host chirped. “I made your favorite stir-fry. Thank god all your favorite foods are easy to make.”

    Carlos stared up at Cecil, trying to communicate by waving his one crumbling arm. He wasn’t used to letting Cecil talk. In fact, he almost always dominated the conversation. It was a wonder how a man who made a living using his voice could take a back seat when his boyfriend was talking… Then again, Carlos never really gave him a chance to do otherwise.

    “I’m so glad you like it!” Cecil continued. He didn’t seem bothered that Carlos couldn’t speak. The scientist quietly wondered if he was enjoying it. He also wondered how he was going to eat the stir fry -- which WAS his favorite, actually, heh -- without a jaw. Again, Cecil didn’t seem concerned.

    “Okay, so, Mother will probably want me to stay for a while. We’ll want to keep our body parts in places where they won’t get stolen or thrown away. I remember that my sister used to keep hers in a suitcase when she and her dates broke up… actually, I think I have a large duffel bag somewhere!”

    Carlos suddenly remembered his right hand, still lying in the street somewhere, clutching a gallon of milk. It also had his watch attached to it. He frowned, disappointed.

    “Father is more difficult to be around than Mother, but I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s been missing for years and communicates using only a flashing light in the distance, blinking in rapid Morse code. If he starts making those tasteless race jokes again, I promise we’ll pull the shades closed -- it’s a behavior we really shouldn’t be tolerating from him.”

    Carlos suddenly perked up. Morse code! Using his remaining arm stump, he began to tap out a brief message to Cecil. “HOW LONG… WILL IT TAKE… TO BREAK UP?”

    It didn’t even take the radio host a second to process the Morse. “We’ll be completely separated by tonight. It’s why I wanted an early dinner. Celestial travel is very exhausting, and you end up hungry by the end of it no matter what you do. However, it’s still better to start with a full stomach.”

    Carlos sighed in relief. He loved having answers. “I LEFT… MY HAND… ON THE STREET.”

    “Oh dear…” For the first time that night, Cecil looked worried. “We’ll have to check the lost and found once we return. This isn’t the first time in history that this has happened, after all.”

    “THAT’S… A RELIEF…”

    The two talked and tapped all throughout dinner. Carlos found it surprisingly refreshing. He talked so much, wanting so badly to get his word out first, that he often forgot just how much he liked his boyfriend’s voice. It was deep, rich, calming, and made all the weird Night Valian events seem completely and acceptably normal.

    In the mean time, they gradually fell apart. Cecil’s hand detached while wrapping it around Carlos’s wrist. Their legs crumbled beneath them, leaving them huddled on the couch and taking playful bets on which parts would fall off next. Soon their arms left them, then their torsos, leaving them a pile of rubble intermingled with each other in the most romantic of ways. Well, it was actually very disturbing, but the feeling was nice. Without a body, Carlos felt weightless in every sense of the word; No mass, no baggage. He couldn’t quite see Cecil, but he could feel his spirit wafting around him, ready to lead him on this astral adventure.

    As they transcended their clay bodies, blissful and carefree, Carlos couldn’t help but idly wonder how Cecil expected them to meet his parents when neither of them had brought any clothes.


	3. New Data

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fairly quick ending I felt inspired to do; it's better than an unfinished fic, right? This whole thing wasn't really going in any special direction except fluff, heh.

The world returned around them like falling bricks, starry nothingness filling up with carpet and wood-boarded walls. Carlos thought that it looked homey, but the water damage took from its attractiveness. Wait, how could there be water damage in a desert? 

As soon as they had their bodies back, Cecil dashed past Carlos and ran up the stairs. They were both stark naked, unfortunately, but Cecil returned a moment later to throw some stiff, dust-smelling clothing down the steps. Carlos quickly slipped on a pair of jeans, which were a smidge too big, and a flannel shirt that was missing three of its top buttons. Upstairs, Cecil was padding back and forth down the halls, calling out while doors opened and slammed shut. 

While his boyfriend searched for his parents, Carlos explored the first floor with confusion. The house was in a state of distress and had desert lizards crawling around like cockroaches, possibly hunting for said cockroaches. None of the lights worked, and the vast, uninterrupted desert in the distance had no blinking lights -- Morse-coded or otherwise. 

However, there were still pictures. Most were broken, but all of them had faces scribbled out or ripped away entirely. The only way Carlos could recognize his young boyfriend in any of them was by the tape recorder he seemed to carry with him in every photo.

“I… don’t understand…” he heard Cecil say back in the livingroom. “She should be here. We broke up, why isn’t she here?” For the third time, the radio host went through every room of the desolate house, looking for somebody who had been gone for a long, long time. Finally, he slumped on the couch, head in his transparent hands.

Carlos dutifully sat beside him, placing an ethereal arm around his shoulders. In times like these, Carlos found words difficult. Words were very hard to come by when you needed them most, he discovered. For him, at least. Cecil never had trouble with words, and Carlos thought that was beautiful. 

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” he suggested. “If you’re worried, then we need to--”

Cecil shook his head. “No, she… No, she’s been missing for a long while. Father too. This place is as empty as it’s always been.”

“I don’t… think I understand. If they’ve been missing all these years, why in the world did we break up and spiritually project here?”

“That’s exactly what I’m confused about!” exclaimed the radio host, throwing his hands halfheartedly in the air. “I always thought that breaking up was a phenomenon that occurred when it was time to introduce your lover to your parents. Therefore, if we were summoned, I believed that meant that maybe they were here, that… that…” Carlos squirmed uncomfortably, realizing that Cecil had started crying. He wasn’t good with crying either. All he could do was hold Cecil close and try to figure out how to make this better.

He said the first thing that came to mind. “That’s new data.”

Cecil looked up, wiping his face with the cuff of his sweater, looking embarrassed at his breakdown. “New... data?”

“Y-yes, precisely!” Carlos’s hands started to move fervently. “When you’re wrong about something, that means you have new information to make a new hypothesis out of! Therefore, while this mysterious breakup phenomenon and introducing one’s lover to one’s parents seem to have a correlation, it turns out that they don’t actually have a  causation .”

Cecil appeared to be calming down, listening intently to Carlos’s scholarly rambles. His puffy red eyes continued to prod the scientist for words. “Are you saying that… the purpose of breaking up isn’t to meet my parents… but has some other purpose?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying!” Carlos continued. “We may not know that purpose, but we know that it’s relationship-oriented, and that it somehow involves being astrally projected into one partner’s parents’ home. If we do a simple questionnaire of other couples in Night Vale who have broken up on the past, then we might have enough data to find the exact cause and purpose of breakups!”

“This science talk of yours is awfully questioning…” Cecil pointed out, but seemed more amused than concerned. “You could get in trouble for that kind of thinking.”

“Well, heh…” Carlos flushed, nervously combing his hair back with his hand. “That’s kind of my thing, though, isn’t it? Being rebellious with all my thoughts and science?”

Cecil leaned in against his boyfriend, tucking his head in the heavenly space between Carlos’s shirt collar and neck. “Yes,” he murmured and closed his eyes. “Yes, it is.”

The two fell quiet and listened to the sounds of scuttling lizards and calm breathing; the light shifted, the sun set, and the sky went from blue, to pink, to red. They stayed like that until darkness fell and sleep overtook them, transporting them overnight back to their couch at home. And there they remained even then, content as they were in that perfect moment together: quiet.


End file.
